The Bleeding Rose
by Chaos Silver
Summary: ~h/d slash~ My first hp fic and I would kill *Sleepless Soul* if this screws up. Comfort comes only once in awhile, like withering roses in winter. r/r, please!


  
Standard Disclaimers Apply.   
**_Italicized _**words belong to_ Our Lady Peace/ 4 am._   
This is PG-13 for slightly dark themes (get used to it), the vagueness of the whole piece of shit, the pointlessness and the HP/DM slash content. If you want me to write something more than crap, well e-mail and tell me.   
Reviews are welcome, as for flames, might as well accept that too.   
I apologize for my crude grammar, as I am not a literate and am lack of sleep due to the high amount ot caffeine in my bloodstream, which pretty much means that I am a touch dazed from rhetoric exhaustion. This is dedicated to Sarah; thanks for calling, I appreciate your company much. And to ~Sleepless Soul~ who has remained dormant as of late because of her rather sub par grades.   
  


* * *

**[The Bleeding Rose]**

_I walked around my good intentions_   
_And found that there were none_   
_I blame my father for the wasted years_   
_We hardly talked_   
_I never thought_   
_I would forget this hate_

The blood dripped to the floor in mock vulnerability, inaudible as the silent sobs echoing in the stiff stillness, a constant reminder of the boy's weakness. The young aristocrat shook uncontrollably, hugging himself from the bitter cold that engulfed his flawless body, pain stinging his very soul with ever immeasured movement, like invisible chains whipping against his smooth flesh made raw by many years of torture and brutality. 

Tears threatened to fall from the bruised cheeks, eyes tightly shut as the blond eyelashes fluttered desperately to halt the tidal wave of emotion washing over him; shadows danced behind his lids, laughing in their wanton derision and the young Draco Malfoy cried helplessly under scrutiny, hating himself for showing emotion, for breaking the Malfoy decorum, breaking the rules. 

**A Malfoy never shows any weakness.**

But there weren't any rules any more. No one was watching and it was okay to break down like shattered pieces of glass on the floor, to succumb to the raw anguish building up within one's soul, rolling into a palpitating ball of agony that had to be released some time. The physical pain was allot, but the emotional flaw was too much to bear. 

It was all his fault. Perfect, beautiful Harry Potter in all his irreverent Gryffindor glory. Had he not unveiled his identity to the Wizarding world 5 years ago, Draco Malfoy's life would've been unmarred, his uncharted sanctity and innocence, untouched and preserved . Had he not been best at everything, Draco Malfoy would have more or less lived a life that possessed a certain degree of normalcy. 

Then again, what was normal?   
To have your deatheater father beat you endlessly and have your own mother watch in sheer abhorrence of your father's actions, helplessly tied to a chair to witness her child's delicacy be smothered into flames by the man she'd sworn to love? 

Yes, it was normal for a Malfoy. 

Watching the pain. 

One day, he swore to himself, he shall fight the world that had shunned his existence and bittered him to the core; he'd wake from the cruel reality of his sadistically perverse life and show his father that he was the rightful heir in the Malfoy line, that he deserved not only the prestige a Malfoy associate could have, but the immense power to win. 

He choked at his fervent anger and covered the one tear that fell. 

He'd show Lucius how to hurt. One day. He would. 

_Then a phone call made me realize_   
_I'm wrong_   
_If I don't make it known that_   
_I've loved you all along_

The halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry silently bowed in awe at the the finessed aristocracy of Draco Malfoy as he walked along the historic corridors after Saturday afternoon's usual Quidditch practice. He'd been quite adept at concealing his fresh wounds from public's eye and had been constantly making up stories at which he had at most ended up hurting himself. 

He idly stroked at the cut on his forehead and winced as he pressed with unforeseen pressure and bit his bruised lip to prevent himself from not crying out. The past few days had been hard. To begin with, his house mates had been badgering him pertinaciously and not taking 'Sod Off' for any answer. Draco shook his head in defeat as he trodded gracefully onwards. 

Platinum blond hair grotesquely fell to his eyes and he stroked it back as he rounded into a corner that would lead to the staircase to the Slytherin dungeons. 

"Shit!" 

His eyes widened at the voice and he immediately braced himself for the foreseen crash, which was exactly what was. He fell into a heap, atop a soft bundle of deep crimson robes; the world clashed and the moon collided its fiery silver with the radiating yellow streaks of sunlight, denying the other's existence as two enemies' eyes met, gray lifeless orbs to the optimistic green ones. 

"Potter.."   
He shut his eyes, feeling the hot breath of Harry Potter caressing his flushed cheeks in a whisper that calmed the storm in his soul, a remedy to his momentary pain. All subtlety lay forgotten as the taller raven haired boy touched his bruised lip, tracing the fine, pink curve of flesh. Draco's eyes snapped open and frantically searched for reason, for logic as to why these sensations excited him. 

His lips parted, acknowledging Harry's ministrations as a calloused thumb rubbed the blond's lower lip in a caring gesture. "What the hell..." His voice faltered as the Gryffindor extracted himself from the Slytherin rival.   
"You've one sick mind Potter." Draco Malfoy spat as he came to his senses and was helped up by Harry Potter. 

"And just what makes you say that?"   


"Don't you _ever_ touch me again." 

A cold chuckle that sent a shiver to his spine, "You allowed me access, how should I deny myself the offer?" 

"Say that again and I swear Potter, I'll punch you in the gut." 

"Then why don't you, **Draco**? Punch me in the gut for all you want-?" 

Draco's calm reserve failed miserably and he succumbed to the defeat swiftly, as a shadow dying in the light, encompassing his soul. His fists clenched together apathetically but he looked away the moment his eyes met Harry's. The anger was dormant as of present, burning with the lost dreams he'd learned to let go when he was still in his foolish youth._ But why..?_

Draco turned to leave but a hand on his shoulder willed him around gently. 

He jerked lightly and stumbled forward in grief, tripping into Harry's arms that weren't supposed to be there. 

The tears welled up and he buried his face in the strong solace reverberating from Harry's chest. 

"Potter. Get away from me, _please_."   


_Just like sunny days that_   
_We ignore because_   
_We're all dumb and jaded_

His feet ran fast in sheer foolishness as he glanced back at the raven-haired boy fast on his tail. The sunlight peaked through the green slits of the tall trees that shrouded and towered over him their branches bowed in graceful etiquette. 

He halted for a moment, a pair of hands on the knees to pacify his exhaustion as he rested his eyes on the ground. He panted through his nose and a smile formed upon his lips as he felt Harry's strides closing in behind him, arms wrapping around his waist from behind. 

"Tag. You're it." 

He leaned in and rested his head at the crook of Harry's shoulder as he looked up at the green eyes of his former rival. "You run pretty, damn fast for your built, Potter." 

Kissing his cheek, "I do everything fast." 

Draco snorted. "Oh really?" 

"Yeah, by now you should've figured that out." 

He unclasped himself from Harry's grip, sighing but saying nothing and walked over to a bush of red roses. He gingerly picked one and pressed the crimson bud to his nose, savouring the gentle scent that tickled his senses.   
"It's beautiful, isn't' it?"  
He looked up and nodded. He wasn't sure whether Harry was referring to him or the rose but he thought that it didn't matter anymore. Harry pulled a crimson velvet petal off and pressed it against Draco's pale palm, hands covering the other boy's as he closed into a ball. 

Softly, "Close your eyes, Draco." 

"Why in the world-"   
"Just, close your eyes.." 

A sigh. 

"Do you feel it?" 

"Feel what?" 

"The texture of the rose. Can you feel the youth of that petal? It's beautiful, the zealous life of nature lying in your palm that you could just take grasp of for eternity." 

"Everything dies, Harry, there is no forever in our mortality." 

"Who told you that?" 

"Father did." 

_And I hope to god I figure out_   
_What's wrong_   
_I walked around my room_   
_Not thinking___

The pain wouldn't stop. All that rung into his ears were the laughs of his father as he watched his own son writhe in pain. Muggle torture was more severe than that of anything Draco had felt. And for someone who had endured this much torment, severe meant severe. 

The whips struck his skin at random, playing sadistically with his mind as they hit with uneven pressures and marred the pale skin with cuts and bruises. 

"Where's your Harry now, Draco?" Lucius smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, the ong platinum blond hair that was the family's trademark, flying to his shoulder as he grabbed his own son's chin and lifted up. 

"A Malfoy shows no weakness, my son, but clearly you had stained the Malfoy name with your rash behaviour with that Potter boy. You are such a putrid disgrace to the eyes of this family and deserve no chance whatsoever; you had been granted 16 years of opportunity but had wasted your time in sheer incompetence that I shall be compelled to punish you." 

"I am not the disgrace. You are. You, who bow at the feet of a man who did nothing but spite your loyalty! You who punish your own son because you think he just won't make it as a deatheater. I did everything, _everything_ in my power to please you, to make you realize that you had a worthy son but I guess nothing had worked. The man I called father died before I was even born. And don't you there, mock Harry, at least he knows I'm only human." 

An acidic chuckle, "He'll die." 

"Fuck you." 

Then in rage, "Crucio!" 

A pair of green eyes could only watch in pain as he struggled with the chains that held him into place. 

_Just sinking in this box_   
_I blame myself for being too much_   
_like somebody else_   
__   


The tears mixed with the blood and he rocked himself back and forth, sobbing in his self-pity as the door behind him closed shut. "Shh..." He shut his eyes as he leaned into the comfort of the wind. "You'll be all right, Draco.. You will be." 

He reached into his pocket and clenched the withered petal in his palm. The life that kept him alive slowly crunched in his grasp and he hugged himself once more and blink the tears rapidly away. 

The door behind him opened and revealed his mother walking over to him. 

"What happened?" 

A choked sob, "Harry's dead." 

She wrapped his arms around him, kissing the blond head sympathetically. 

"It just wasn't meant to be, my son. You have to understand that." 

"He loved me, I loved him. It was supposed to bind us forever!" A desperate plea. 

"Like a rose in winter, even love dies, my son." 

_I never thought I would just_   
_Bend this way_   


~Fin~   



End file.
